Die Tragödie von Johann Faust VIII
by Mephistophelian
Summary: Faust VIII realizes that no matter how hard he tries, Eliza will never come back to life. So, resorting to become more like his ancestor, he calls apon the very devil who cursed his blood, Mephistopheles. How far will Faust go to save the one he loves?
1. Default Chapter

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Die Tragödie von Johann Faust VIII

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I don't own any of the characters mentioned. I claim no rights to them and am making no money from this. Pity too cuz I could use some cash.

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Chapter 1

The cold, lonely night filled the small town in Germany. Though, this night, in all of its semblance to the very presence of death was more welcoming than a certain Faust VIII.

He stood at a window, looking out apon a desolate wasteland, better known as a grave yard. You see, he had recently taken to _sleepin_g , if you could call his brief periods of hibernation that, inside the large cathedrals that overlooked church cemeteries.

He was quiet content at the moment, gazing over the homes of countless corpses, who, several times before, had acted as his weapon. He chuckled at the memories. The government officials had been baffled as to the cause of hundreds of dead bodies found above ground, and the presence of one mangled body that was obviously new.

Though, he had never been capable of enjoying the glory of completely decimating those who opposed his beloved research, his beloved wife. He had found that, ever since that night, when she was murdered, he had become as the living dead. Empty, hollow, mirthless. Grasping towards life, yet never fully able to maintain the form. He himself had lost the signs of life long ago.

So now he stood, sharing a hateful smirk with eternity itself, and laughing at the vanity of it all. The living will become the dead, there is no stopping it. He had learnt, through his long research, his toiling, his constant attentiveness to the writhing corpses, freshly devoid of life, that it was all in vain. Nothing can survive that gluttonous, ever-hungering monstrosity known as death. Nothing. Not even... Eliza...

So, now Faust stands, looking out the window at the cemetery, preparing himself for what must be done. He had already lit the candles, Eliza was in place, the blood had been shed, and now, all that was left to do was finish it. All he had to do was chant the Satanic prayer, and the building would be fully desecrated. Then, all he need do is call out the name of that devil which cursed his bloodline.

Mephistopheles.

He chanted, stroked his beloved one last time, and called out the name. The name of the devil he wished to make a pact with.

The large cathedral doors opened, and, in alarm, Faust summoned the men whose blood was used for the ceremony, his own Eliza standing beside him. But, it was for no purpose.

The one standing at the entrance was a tall young man with red hair, deep emerald eyes, and an amused smirk.

" Hello, I'm Mephistopheles. I believe you desecrated this church in my name. Come now, do tell me who it is that would kill and skin twenty men, on church grounds no less, just to see the devil."

Faust did not speak. He was, in a way, afraid. He knew that this evil spirit was quite human-like in appearance, but he had expected some distinguishing feature. Yet here before him stood what appeared to be a man. It frightened him for some reason which he could not place. Or, perhaps it was the knowledge of exactly _what _this creature truly was that frightened him. Either way, he was terrified.

At Faust's silence, Mephistopheles smirk grew.

" I believe I know who you are. Ancestor of the dear doctor Faustus, are you not? Your composure is the same, as is your face. Tell me, what more damnation does this bloodline request, and I'll be happy to comply."

The devil then bowed low in a mock sign of respect, and his ruby hair covered his eyes.

" Well, my most gracious friend, what is it you want?"

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Authors note:

AAAAUUUHHHHH!!!!! I feel dirty!!! I've made Faust make an offering to the devil! I hate that part of the chapter!

Just so you know, Faust is not worshiping the devil. He's just getting really REALLY desperate. Please don't you guys get this desperate, oh please don't!!

And don't worry, the morale to this fanfiction will be to never, under any circumstances, make a deal with the devil. C'mon people, use your brains, that's what God gave em' to you for.

Anyway, if you have any suggestions for this story, I am asking you to suggest away! I've only got a sketchy idea of what I'm gonna do with this, so, I could really use some input. Thanks guys!


	2. Chapter 2

Authors note: Hello, welcome back to my drear and most likely unhumorous fanfic (Hence the title tragedy). I would like to thank all of those who reviewed the first chapter, and I have a special message for Chantal:

_Werther is not present in this fic, hence, no violinists. No violins. No chopping off of the hands and throwing into the fire. Well, okay, those last two MIGHT be present, but I aint promising nuthin!_

_This authors not is probably going to be the lightest part of this chapter, so prepare yourself for sorrow, angst, and misery._

Chapter 2 

Faust stared at the man, no, devil, that stood before him, bowing with all eloquence and grace. For a moment, he began to reconsider his decision, but that coaxing smirk was quite alluring, and, in the end, he called his skeletons down and their bones clattered to the floor, save Eliza's, of course; Faust caught her remains and wrapped them gently in chains.

" Your right." Faust answered shakily, " I am Faust VIII, ancestor to Faust, whose soul, I presume, is yours." The devils smirk grew.

" I knew it!" He proclaimed triumphantly, rising form his bow. " And what is it you called apon me for, dear Faustus? Did you wish the company of the living?" He said skillfully as he eyed the skeleton of Eliza, wrapped tightly in chains and being held protectively in Faust's arms.

" I told your ancestor, Faust I, how much I detest the dead. I'm quite positive that's why he became a necromancer." Mephistopheles said in an amused voice. Actually, everything about him, his entire countenance seemed amused.

" I wished to make a deal with you." Faust said in the loudest voice he could muster, which was just above a whisper.

" You did now?" Mephistopheles replied in a pleased voice.

" Yes."

" What do you want?"

" My wife."

" What will you give me?"

" What do you want?"

" Your soul."

" No, I can't give that to you. It belongs to Eliza."

" Then what have you to offer me?" Mephistopheles voice was now low, grim, and evil.

Faust did not know what to answer. He had been in such a hurry to perform the ritual that he had not even taken the time to think about what he would offer this damned creature. He had assumed, or, rather hoped, that he would have and offer for him. Apparently he was wrong. If this devil wanted him to choose his form of damnation he would, but what to offer…?

" You wanted my ancestors soul to serve you in Hell for eternity," Faust began after a moment of silence, " I will serve you on Earth till I die."

This idea seemed to interest Mephistopheles, and his demeanor changed entirely.

" A life sentence, eh? Well, that seems promising. Alright Faust, you have a deal. Though, I do require you to sign this with a drop of your blood. Nothing much, just a prick of the finger will do."

" You don't need to sugar-coat things for me. I don't care how much I lose, as long as I get my beloved back." Faust murmured as he took his scalpel out of his pocket and made a tiny incision on the index finger, which he then pressed against the paper. Mephistopheles smirk was once again plated on his face.

" Thank you. Now I take it, that," Mephistopheles than pointed his delicate finger to the remains of the once beautiful maiden. " Is your oh-so-precious- wife?"

" Yes." Faust replied as he cleaned his finger, it was a small cut, yes, but deep enough that he would need stitches.

" I will bring her back. Not yet, but soon. In the meantime, I have other clients who are waiting to be damned. Come, if you are to assist me, you must know what to do." Mephistopheles then began to head over towards the cathedral doors.

" Oh, and leave that dreadful skeleton behind. She'll be safe here, of course. This is, after all, my church now."

Reluctantly, Faust obeyed. He couldn't stand anyone talking about he's dearest on such a crude manner, but he reminded himself that he must obey this demon, for Eliza. Ever so gently he laid her out on the altar, chains and all.

Once Faust was standing beside Mephistopheles the two were engulfed in a black mist that clawed at them and squeezed at the life held therein. Mephistopheles seemed to thoroughly enjoy it, Faust, however, did not enjoy the feeling of desperation and endured it as best he could.

When the mist disappeared Faust could see standing in a cramped room, filled with candles, needles, dolls, and books. The walls were covered in heavy drapery and the floor a tall shag rug.

" Who is he?" Asked a low, nasal voice from behind the pair.

" Ahhhh… M'lady, and how are you this fitful night?" Mephistopheles smirked as he turned.

Behind them sat a girl in a lacy black dress, with pasty skin, blood red lips, and a black cloak draped over he shoulders. When she moved her arms Faust could see that she had fish net sleeves and velvet gloves.

" Answer the question Mephistopheles, who is he?" The girl glared accusingly at Faust.

" This is my dear doctor Johann Faust VIII. He's working for me so that I'll return his wenches soul to her body. Quite tragic actually." Mephistopheles said in mock sadness while Faust withheld his anger at the devil who called his love a wench.

" Why is he here?" She asked in a low, nasal, monotonous voice.

" Why, my sweet, he will be aiding you in procuring your sacrifices. Faust, I'd like you to meet Jennianna (pronounced Jenny Anna) she is the leader of a vampire Covent."

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_Disclaimer: I do not own Faust, Eliza, or Mephistopheles,. I do own Jennianna. _


	3. Chapter 3

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Die Tragödie von Johann Faust VIII

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Hello beloved. I would like to take a paragraph or two to bid you forgive me. I am ever so sorry for taking this long to update the story. I was just really enjoying a book (Corpses, Coffins, and Crypts: A history of Burial). I found it at the schools library and just HAD to check it out. Anyway, at least I'm back.

I would like to thank all of you that reviewed my story, and bring special praise to Falcon Strife, newly renamed Babysoft-chan, for updating living in deaths Shadow. It is, with ought a doubt, the greatest story on And if you haven't already read it, well, what are you doing reading this? Go! Begon with you! LIDS is WAY better than this!

I SAID GO!

And if you have already read it, then you have my permission to read my story.

Chapter 3

Night. Darkness. Deep, all consuming darkness that could drive the minfd to insanity and the body to death. And the demented, twisted, hateful air that lurked, awaiting your next breath. Suffocating you ever so slowly.

That is how Johann Faust VII felt as he walked beside the woman, Jennianna. Seeing them striding by, swiftly, gracefully, as if they were dancing instead of walking. Gliding instead of striding,. It brought to mind La Danse Macabre. Both of them, as if the living dead.

The silence pressed around them, making that feeling, that urge, that clawing within the pit of the very being, to scream out the agony and pain even more intense. Faust sighed as he struggled for control; the woman's presence was most unnerving.

" Excuse me..." Faust began, only to be interrupted by a very annoyed vampire.

"What do you want, _necromancer_." Jennianna snapped, giving special attention to the word necromancer, as if any who bore that title were beneath her. Needless to say, Faust was offended.

" What do you have against me, Frauline?" Faust asked in a harder tone, slipping momentarily into German.

" You." She murmured in hateful spite and pride, " Are an abomination. As all who practice _you're_ art are."

" And why exactly are we abominations?" Faust snapped back.

" What's the matter doctor," Jennianna taunted evilly, " don't like people to hate you? Well get used to it. Your in league with Satan now, you are the enemy of all things pure and holy."

" You didn't answer my question. And besides my dear, your the devils friend as well, shouldn't you accept me then?" Faust smirked,

" No. I hate you. You and all of your living kin who partake in the rituals of the dead."

" Why, your not dead, yet you do the same."

" I may not be dead, but I'm not alive."

" Of course, how could I be such a Trottel." Faust sneered, then changed the subject, " What kind of sacrifice are we to get?" Jennianna did not answer till they came apon a small building. It had a slightly Romanesque feel and reminded Faust of his home, or, rather, his former home. The same one that he shared with Eliza for such a short time, the same one that she had died in, the same one that had been taken from him to pay for his debts, the same he missed and longed for.

" Human." Jennianna murmured in the cold night, breaking Faust's reminiscing.

" What?" He asked, somewhat dazed after thinking of his former life with his beloved.

" The sacrifice we are to get, is human." She whispered ominously as he gaze fixed intently on a second story window. Almost unconsciously, her tongue slicked over her lips in anticipation. " Up there, the second window from the left, the bedroom of a little girl."

" What about her?" Faust asked suspiciously, not liking where this was going.

" What do you think you moron!" Jennianna snapped angrily, " She is the sacrifice."

" What! But you said she was a little girl!" Faust cried, outraged.

" Psh." Jennianna completely ignored him as she began fiddling with her dagger; a long ominous thing with a curled up dragon decorating the hilt. After moments of what appeared to Faust as waiting, Jennianna cast impatient eyes on Faust. She appeared to be both angry and exasperated.

" Fool! Don't you know what your job is! Did you not listen to Mephistopheles! Stop standing around like a complete imbecile and get me my sacrifice!" Jennianna screeched into the night, glaring daggers at the man who towered a good 1 1/2 feet above her. Her pale hand clenched the actual dagger, which reflected moonlight and seemed to cry out for blood.

Faust glared back at Jennianna, his heart willing him to defy her, yet knowing he would not. He must please this parasite of a woman, else his beloved would remain amongst hte deceased.

With a heavy sigh, Faust raised his arm in a beaconing motion, and soon several skeletons emerged from the darkness of the night, freshly summoned from the nearby cemetery.

" Go get the girl. Make no sound. I do not want her harmed." He murmured as he pointed up to the window. As soldiers on a mission, the decayed bodies of what once was scaled the wall and, making no sound, opened the window. Faust could tell, by the amount of mana he exerted, that a light struggle was taking place in the room. However, it did not last long. The skeletons soon emerged, one holding the young girl, who, to all appearances, was utterly terrified. Her eyes were puffy, tears streamed down her face, and she was exhausted from struggling against the image of death.

" Child, are you hurt?" Faust asked gently as he seized her from the skeletons. " Begone you dreadful creatures!" The corpses obeyed Faust, and disappeared, returning themselves to there places of eternal rest.

As the skeletons made themselves scarce, Faust began a preliminary examination of the child, to be sure his lifeless minions had not harmed her. He noticed that she was frightened of him. He couldn't blame her, he was just barely any better than the dead.

" What do you think you are doing?" Demanded a pale figure that appeared to be cloaked in the very night.

" I'm checking her vital signs. She may have been harmed during her struggle." Faust answered in a very business-like, doctor-like, fashion.

" Fool." Jennianna muttered. " Hurry along you idiot. We need to get to the ritual, where we will kill the sacrifice." She then began walking away, as if dictating the fate of a child was not out of the ordinary; and for her, it may not have been. But, it enraged Faust, however, he suppressed the feeling and gathered the shaking child in his arms. He could hear her whispering for her mother. It broke his heart.

" Shh... Be still, child..." Faust murmured into her ear as he quickly removed a needle from his coat. " I'm going to give you some morphine so you won't feel what they are going to do to you." He whispered just before he pushed the needle into her tiny arm. She whimpered momentarily, but soon she began to get numb and drowsy, and stopped her struggling.

" You know, no matter what you give her, she will feel the pain." Jennianna whispered evilly after long minutes of silence. The two stopped walking once they came to a tattered door, which Jennianna promptly opened. Inside was a group of figures clad in black cloaks. Every now and then one would move about and Faust could catch a glimpse of the clothes they wore.

As he entered the room, a soft murmur rose up; the candlelight that flickered across the atmosphere to be heavy, dark, and foreboding.

" Put the child on the alter." Jennianna commanded as she gripped the dagger. " Tonight, we feed!"

Faust shivered at the cries that gurgled forth out of the vampires. He clutched the child closer to him, he was afraid.

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Faust is not mine, nor is Eliza. I do not own them. The vampires and the child, however, are the sole property of me, Ryu Joobachi. I claim all rights to them.

As mentioned before, I am very sorry for taking this long to update. I'll try to be more prompt for the next chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4:_

The cold night poured in around Faust as he clutched the child closely to his heart. He stood, surrounded by the faces of blood thirsty monsters who would, if given the chance, take the life of the small innocent that their leader had chosen. An inner conflict unraveled in his mind.

It was true. In his search for that one secret, that would bring his beloved, dearest, his most prized back to him, he had taken the lives of many. So why was he now, when her resurrection was irrefutable and undeniable if only he would allow this child to die, having reservations. He did not know. He could not, no matter how hard he tried, understand the reason. He just knew, deep down, in places where the insanity that had taken control of his life had never touched, that it was wrong. Plain and simple. It was evil.

But really, had not everything he had done since her death been, evil? Due to his obsession, his undying love and devotion, his inability to fully grasp that, she was, infact, dead, he had lost something that should have meant more to him than seeing that beautiful face glow with life. He had lost his soul.

Yes, he had refused to sell it to Mephistopheles, but, there is more than one way to damn yourself to Hell; and Faust, in his declared love, had done them all.

But, he stopped dwelling on such depressing notions, for, he was snapped out of his stupor by something odd, ands, though not necessarily out of place, not wanted. At least, not by him.

Something warm was flowing on Faust's arm. He knew, before he looked down to inspect, what it was. The smell and feel gave it away. When the first drop hit his skin, he knew, Jennianna, the accursed wench, had stabbed the child while he was victim to his thoughts.

Faust's eyes focused down on the child, who was staring up at him with frightened eyes, and, emerging from her skull, was the decorated dagger.

" Say goodbye to the necromancer, child." Jennianna's voice whispered maliciously just before she sized the girl and through her roughly onto the alter.

Before Faust could react, the vampires attacked the girl, whilst some remained standing, stock still, in a circle. He could hear low murmurs from their lips. A spell! They were using her to cast a spell!

As the hungry vampires finished their _meal, _Faust watched them join those forming the circle, leaving only him and Jennianna by the alter. The chanting got louder, and Faust found himself unable to move as darkness quickly claimed him. The last thing he saw was the circle of vampires, their malevolent figures blending into the shadows; and the last thing he heard was the scream of a child who's life he had aided to rob.

* * *

Giggling. That was the first thing he heard. Then music. The noises of a crowd soon followed. Close behind came the smells of tree and perfume. He was aware of warmth covering him, and perfume. The strong smell of perfume. It wasn't offensive, just very intrusive, very close. The sweet fragrance of lavender and strawberries.

Slowly, almost groggily, Faust opened his eyes. He stared face to face with the blue eyes of a blonde haired woman. She smiled, almost playfully; he frowned. This wasn't his Eliza.

" Good morning, sweet." She smiled.

" Who are you?" Faust asked pointedly as he glared at her. He wanted to know why this woman was on top of him.

" I was just keeping you warm, as Mephisto asked me to do. You don't have to be so rude." The woman pouted," Oh, and my name is Adeela. What is yours?"

" Faust." He answered somewhat hesitantly, " Where am I?"

" Why, my dear Faust, your on the Blocksberg. I hear you were recently in England. It must feel good to be back home in Germany." She said in a frivolous fashion as she twisted a small lock of hair between her fingers flirtatiously

" England?" He asked questioningly, when the memories came back to him. Jennianna, the child, the dagger, he… he fainted? Impossible! In a flash, he was on his feet, causing Adeela to slip off his chest onto the ground.

" Hey!" She yelled, very much offended.

" Erbarmlich." Faust apologized half heartedly.

" Lüge." She murmured, knowing he did not mean it.

" Where is Mephistopheles?" He asked, somewhat rushed.

" Your close to him, are you not?" She asked, seeming to forget her offence.

" Frau! Where is Mephisto!? Erzählen Sie mich!" He demanded, gripping her shoulders and giving her a good shake.

" He's over there, the tall one with red hair. You see him? He is standing by his cousin Azazel. You see?" She asked him again, whilst pointing.

" Yes, Dank." He thanked her, and headed off towards the devil, not noticing she had grabbed his hand and was following him.

" Hm?" Mephistopheles discontinued conversation with Azazel when he noticed Faust heading towards him, a mixture of panic and anger scrawled across his face. He noticed that Adeela, the young girl he had asked to keep Faust _warm _through the previous night, was with him. Infact, they were holding hands. He smirked. What a shame for the poor necromancer, if only he could get over his deceased wife, young Adeela would be a good mate for him. Of course, he would bear the title of a pedophile, but none the less.

Mephisto chuckled. The simple distresses of man amused him so.

" Ah! Faust, my dear doctor! I see you've woken." Mephistopheles greeted warmly with a huge grin. " You met Adeela, I presume?" It was then that Faust realized the girl was standing beside him, holding his hand even. Quickly, he snatched his numb limb from her.

'Perhaps' he thought,' I should lay off the morphine.' Of course, if he were to do so, the pain of his self induced surgeries would undoubtedly drive him to suicide, if he didn't slip into a coma first.

" You have taken good care of our beloved patron of death?" Mephistopheles asked Adeela good humouredly.

" Mephistopheles!" Faust demanded, once again slipping out of a contemplative stupor. " How did I get here?"

" why, I found you laying inside Jennianna's little _chapel_, if you will, unconscious. I had previously promised to attend this Walpurgis Night, and as you all know. I never break my word." Mephisto said this somewhat slyly as he wrapped an arm around Adeela's slender waist, trailing fingers down to her thighs. Faust was utterly disgusted by this filthy display, Adeela, however, seemed to practically be inviting the accursed beast to take advantage of her.

" That does not explain why I am here, Teufel." Faust spat. He would not ask what had happened to the child, he already knew, and he hated that he did.

" What's the matter, sweet Johann? Jealous?" Mephisto smirked as he released Adeela. Instead, he moved behind Faust and wrapped his pale arms about the mans waist. " If you'd rather I give you my attention I'd be perfectly alright with that." Mephisto whispered seductively as he nipped on Faust's ear. As had often, Faust was enraged. He'd have called forth legions of skeletons to aid him, but there were none here. Only the dead bodies of a few birds; hardly the creatures to destroy the devil.

" Let. Go. Of. Me. Jetzt!" Faust growled through clenched teeth, fully aware that he was the servant, not Mephisto. But, truthfully, could he be blamed for his anger? First the young Adeela was strewn over him, now he had the very _male _devil licking his ear and holding him firmly about the waist. No, he could not be held accountable fro his wrath, it, amazingly, was perfectly justifiable.

" Why should I?" Mephisto asked in a defiant, yet distracted, tone as he tugged lightly on Faust's ear with his teeth. " I think IO like this." He purred, before drawing blood from the blonde's ear.

Faust did not flinch. He could not feel the light pain due to the morphine. However, the anger inside him was welling up, and a deep urge to break their pact filled him. Till he saw Adeela's giggling face, which reminded him so much of Eliza. His sweet, dear, dead Eliza. Then he remembered, that this, devil, held the key to him getting her back. He _must _endure. He must.

" Mephisto. Playing with your little humans again?" came the amused voice of a black haired woman. She was clad in a short gray skirt, a long sleeved white shirt with black squares on the sleeves, and thigh high boots. The sleeves fell off at her shoulders, revealing a small scar set perfectly on the curve of her arm. Her amused smirk and black eyes focused on Faust, who was fighting to keep from lashing out at the red haired man who's chin was resting on his shoulder.

" Ohh.. He's handsome." She purred and licked her lips in a predatory fashion. " Very much so. Though….. he does look a bit tired."

" I'm right here." Faust growled lowly. He was barely withstanding having this beast hang on him, he didn't need its cousin there. Though, in the poor doctors brooding, he never realized what this woman must be if she was the cousin to Mephistopheles.

" He is, isn't he? You know, he's madly in love with his dear wife. Aeliza, was her name? Poor fellow, she died some years back." Mephistopheles stated in a contemplative, sinister voice.

" I see…" she replied.

" Ah! Faustus! This is Azazel, a much beloved cousin of mine." Mephisto grinned, " One of the more well known of the fallen."

" ahh… yes…. That reminds me. Your little girl is crying for you again." Azazel commented in a bored, dull tone.

" again? Can that woman not stand her solitude for even a moment." Mephistopheles complained, letting go of Faust in the process.

" Little girl?" Faust asked, relieved to have been released form Mephisto's embrace.

" Yes. She is a verry, very lonelyt girl who sold me her soul if I would, amazingly, become her friend." Mephisto said contemplatively. " You know, I think I'll send you to her instead."

" What?!" Faust demanded.

" I don't need to repeat myself. Now, keep her company. Make her _happy_. And, try not to faint this time." Mephistopheles smirk grew as the familiar black fog began to engulf Faust. He became aware of only a desperate longing and clawing passion, till he at last stood inside an extremely immaculate room.

" Mephistopheles!" An innocent, child-like voice cried out in joy. Faust turned to see a young girl with dirty blonde hair.

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_Hallo! How are you? I'm in a fairly pleasant mood, but, hey, who wouldn't be? I recently had my birthday and I even made a cape/cloak thing that Chantal insists on wearing. _

_Sorry Chantal, your not Nicky. _

_Anyway, thank you for reading chapter 4 of the story, I hope you enjoyed it greatly, and I hope you will read all future chapters and review them all. But, onto more pressing issues._

**_I don not own the Shaman King characters that are mentioned and or present in this chapter. Namely, Faust and Eliza. I wrote this for my own entertainment and am receiving no money for this so I am insisting that you do not sue me. Thank you my beloved avid readers! And have a nice day! _**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Die Tragödie von Johann Faust VIII**_

_Hallo, it's me again. I just wanted to clear some things up, just incase you were as horribly disgusted by Mephisto as Faust was. This is, and shall remain, a FaustEliza fic. Mephisto just likes to get peoples blood boiling. That's why he was doing that to Faust. Oh, and your going to be getting a few surprises in this chapter. I hope you enjoy them. Also, a beg forgiveness for the ALMOST blatant lack of angst in this chapter. It'll still be there, but to a lesser degree. Now, enjoy the fan fiction. And please, please review it for me. Any ideas are still welcome. I know where I'm going with the story, but little details have yet to be added. _

_One more thing. Thank you sooOo much Miss Cassi for the Happy Birthday_

_Chapter 5:_

" Who-who are you?" A girl with short, dirty blonde hair asked as she hid behind the corner of a doorway. She had seen the black smoke, and, thinking Mephistopheles had come to visit her, she ran to the room. But it wasn't Mephisto. It was some blonde haired man with a scary face.

Faust did not know where he was, or what to expect. But seeing the terrified 15 year old was not quite what he thought he'd find. A girl with a hateful appearance and the personality of Jennianna, perhaps, but not this. She was so frail, so delicate, so innocent. Not the type pf person he expected to be involved in any way with a devil like Mephisto.

"Child." He said aloud, realizing for the first time how ominous his voice sounded. " What is your name?"

" I don't have a name." She whispered, almost fearfully.

" No name? What does Mephisto call you?"

" Many things."

" What should I call you?"

" Have you been sent to entertain me?"

" I suppose."

" What's your name?"

" I'm Faust VIII."

" Call me… Esther. I always wanted to be Esther." Esther said quietly as she stepped out from hiding.

" Where are we, Esther?" Faust asked, this child was far more pleasant than Jennianna or Adeela. And especially Mephistopheles.

When was he getting Eliza back? He missed her. He missed her so much.

" We're in Colorado. Why? Where were you?" She asked, a curious look on her face. Her fear had dissipated, causing her to seem more like a child than she was. Perhaps she had regressed?

Esther jumped up and sat on a messy countertop behind Faust, picking up a spoon while doing so.

" I was in Germany, on the Blocksburg." Faust answered, staring intently at the child. She had intrigued him for some odd reason.

" Are you German?" She asked.

"Yes, I am."

" Your lonely, aren't you?"

" What?" Faust stared at her with bewildered eyes. Why would she say that? It was true, yes, but how would she know? Had Mephisto talked to her about him?

" We're all lonely. That's why we do it." She said as she fiddled with the spoon she'd picked up.

" Do what?" He asked suspiciously, glaring now at the little girl.

" Sell Him our souls. We don't have anything left, so we damn ourselves to Hell just to have a friend. Or someone, something, to keep us company."

" Where are your parents, Esther?" Faust asked suddenly, realizing that he hadn't caught sight of them. That, and, the way she talked made him feel a little worried about her. Regardless of the fact that she was beyond salvation.

" They're dead." She answered simply, as if it meant nothing to her.

" What happened to them?" Faust demanded. Did Mephisto kill them? He wouldn't put it past the devil.

" I killed them."

What? That was all Faust thought. _She_ had killed them? Her?

" Why did you kill your parents, Esther?"

" Do you wear lipstick?"

"Answer me, Esther."

" Why do you wear a labcoat? Are you a scientist?"

" Esther."

" A doctor, then?"

" Will you answer me?"

" Why do you have a blue torso?" Faust was annoyed now.

" Listen, girl! Answer me, now!" Faust yelled angrily as he gripped the girls shoulders and gave her a little shake. He was wrong, this girl was not pleasant company, she was like Mephisto, except that she still bore a bit of shame and would not openly flirt with him. Faust shuddered. Horrible thoughts. Horrible, horrible thoughts.

" Take me to the movies. I want to see a movie." She said, seemingly unfazed by Faust. He sighed. She wasn't going to tell him anything.

" I don't have any money, girl." He said finally, letting go of her shoulders and leaning against the counter in a dejected fashion. Oh Eliza, if only you were here. You always understood children, they always liked you.

" Take me to the movies. I want to see a movie." Esther said again, using the same voice.

" I can't. I don't know where the movies are."

" Take me to the movies. I want to see a movie." Her voice was whining now, almost pleading.

" No."

"Your supposed to entertain me! I want to go to the movies!" Esther proclaimed in a tantrum-like way.

'She doesn't act like a fifteen year old.' Faust thought, suddenly seeming to believe his earlier observation. Perhaps she really had regressed…

* * *

" Mephisto, who is this Faust? I thought you already took care of that family." Azazel muttered as she stared into the fire. It was daytime, yes, but the bonfires set that night were left to burn freely, consuming whatever they wished.

" Heh. He called to me. How could I refuse him? He is a Faust, after all." Mephistopheles answered with a smirk as he stared up at the blue sky. Chances are, he was looking for shapes in the clouds. A childish game, really, however, he did enjoy it.

" You take too much pleasure in humans." Azazel commented.

" I've said it before, beloved cousin, there is nothing worse than a devil who despairs. We have a limited amount of time to be free, then we will be sent to Hell for eternity, why not enjoy ourselves while we are here?"

" Are you trying to reason with me?"

" No. Merely relaying my point. What do I care if you despise your existence?"

" What is he giving you?"

" Who?"

" The human!"

" Oh, Faust, he is serving me till his death."

" What, no soul bond?" She scoffed.

" No, not this time. I've got something better, because, as long as he serves me, he will end up in Hell. It is, inevitable."

" What are you giving him?"

" His wife."

" Oh?"

" She died some time ago, as I told you. He wants me to give him her soul. He can already summon her body."

" How did he achieve that?"

" He's a necromancer. Apparently, he went insane after she died and locked himself up in his basement, studying the dark arts for all his worth."

" He's damning them both, her and himself."

" He doesn't know that. He thinks she'll go to Heaven. Or, perhaps he hasn't thought that far into the future. I don't really care. We've entered into a contract, so there's nothing he can do."

" What happens if you fail to cary it out?"

" I release him from it's terms."

" And if he fails?"

" I get to keep his wife's soul."

" he agreed to that?"

" Unwittingly, yes, he did. No one ever really reads the contract. The first Faust did, but he was meaning to damn himself, so really, it meant nothing."

" How very, devilish of you."

" Of course. We are little satans, aren't we?"

" Of course." Azazel smiled wickedly.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Die Tragödie von Johann Faust VIII**_

_Hey, how are you all doing? I'm fine myself. To begin this chapter, I shall indulge in shameless self advertising and promotion. If any of you happen to be a Naruto fan, then I'd like to ask you if you would please read my other story, Betray Me Not My Grave. I know, the title is a bit cheap, however, the story has been stewing in my mind for a while now and I feel the need to get it out. Heh. Now, let us begin the next chapter for this story! _

_Your right morningstripe, Mephisto was being gross. However, I found his, how shall we say, seductive attitude to be necessary to show his lack of restraint and such. This story is not promoting yaio, I assure you. Thank you. _

**Chapter 6:**

Faust felt water dripping down his forehead. It was annoying him to no end, however, he couldn't seem to get away from it. No matter the way he turned, or if he tried to block the water with his arm, it found a way to attack his exposed forehead.

Finally, he opened his eyes. There stood Esther above him, holding a water bottle so that the nozzle was pointed down on him.

" Good morning, sir." The young lady said, not moving the bottle so that it were to drip elsewhere.

Last night, Faust had given in to the spoiled creature and taken her to the movies. They had had to sneak in thorough the back because neither had the money to pay for tickets. The movie itself had been rather boring in Faust's opinion. It was about a group of kids, he didn't remember exactly what happened. He didn't really care, it followed the same plot as any other movie. A group of people are trying to stay alive whilst something hunts them down, and to strengthen the plot, they can't work together due to sexual tension. Truly boring.

He had spent the time thinking about his beloved. Her smile, her laugh. The way her hair shined in the sunlight as she danced on the pavement. How she would always get teary eyed and over joyous every time he brought her a bouquet of flowers. He rarely ever brought her roses, mostly carnations and lilies. They were her favorites.

But he couldn't dwell on his love for long, the movie had finished and Esther wanted to go home. She said she was too tired to walk and demanded Faust carry her. He would not, but he knew she wouldn't walk on her own, and he couldn't just leave her behind. So, he summoned one of the dead. He had meant to terrify her by having the skeleton carry her, however, it didn't work.

She had seemed at ease riding on the back of a pile of bones. Mephisto's fault, Faust concluded.

The skeleton itself had come from the tombs nearby. He had summoned one of them to stand watch by the theater, just incase a shaman wished to do battle. He didn't like the Americas, there were far too many people who had contact with the dead just roaming around. Modern day nomads, Faust though, ravaging the land and destroying any who got in there way.

He was somewhat like them. Anything for loves sake. Even death. However, he didn't kill unless he needed to. It was his way. He knew Eliza would not be pleased if he murdered any he chanced upon.

But back to the point, the Americas were quite bountiful in shamans. And unlike other countries, they didn't wish to befriend others, they wished to conquer them. Hey believed themselves to be the most powerful, and would attempt to kill anyone who was seen as a threat to that power, and Faust knew he would be considered a threat. He didn't want to fight. He was too weary, too upset. He didn't dare fight in this condition, it did nothing but bode ill for any and all onlookers. As well as the opponent.

When they arrived home, to Esther's home, no place was his home. Not any longer.

When they arrived, Faust collapsed on the floor, more from sorrow than fatigue. He cried himself to sleep as Esther hummed a tune to herself while doing God-knows-what. Faust hurt. Oh he hurt. He missed his beloved and it was tearing him up. He wanted to die. There was no way he could continue doing what Mephisto wanted, no way. He just, wanted to give up.

He couldn't. He quite literally couldn't. For him, it truly was impossible to give up on Eliza. He had told himself for so long that he could do it, that he would save her. So that now, even when he wanted to quit, he knew he couldn't.

'Oh Eliza! Eliza, my love! I wish to be freed from this burden, to be freed from this sorrow! I still love you, but you are dead! You died! Why? I cannot live with ought you!'

That was what Faust's soul cried out as he slipped into a comforting sleep. Sleep was his only escape, and sometimes the haven betrayed him by allowing that thing he prized the most into it. It let Eliza come in. It let him bask in her radiance. He didn't want to see that beauty when he knew he could not reach it, but he did not want to abandon it, either.

He was caught up in a paradox that was so sinful it was near blasphemy. He could not leave, even when he wanted to, because for love he stayed, but to prove love he must go. Eliza would not want him to hurt, but would she want him to leave and give up on her?

" Eliza…" He whispered as he feel into sweet oblivion for the night.

" Who is Eliza?" Esther asked as she stared at Faust.

" Close that bottle. The water is bothering me."

" The water woke you up."

" I didn't want to wake up."

" Because Eliza?"

" How do you know about Eliza?"

"You said her name last night."

" I did not."

" You did."

" I don't take correction from little girls."

" I'm not a little girl."

" Fine then. I don't take correction from little teenage girls."

" Perhaps you should."

" Perhaps you should stop bothering your elders."

" I would. But Mephisto said I could do anything I want, as long as I'm happy."

" Why would the devil want you to be happy?"

" Because I gave him my soul to be happy."

" That doesn't sound wise."

" You gave up your soul for Eliza."

" Who told you that?"

" You, in so many words."

" That's different."

" Why, you'll be happy if you have her, won't you?"

" Yes, but--"

" Then you are with him for the same reason." Faust scowled. She was right. He was working for Mephistopheles for the same reason that she sold him her soul.

" Just because I do it, does not mean it's wise." Faust muttered as he rose and headed for the bathroom. He needed to get away from the little pest. He needed morphine.

Ahh, yes, his sweet morphine. It had dulled the pain for so many years, why not now?

Faust took a needle out of his lab coat and filled it with the sweet substance. As he inserted the needle into his arm and emptied the contents, he felt blissful relief wash over him. His mind was numb, his body was numb, he felt nothing but a driving passion that never left him. The passion of his marriage, of his wife.

Suddenly, he was filled with new vigour and had the strength to continue on down the path of eternal damnation, all for Eliza. He did it all for Eliza.

" What did you do in there?" The Esther asked, who had been standing on one side of the door. She hadn't heard the toilet flush nor the sink turn on.

Faust smiled down on the little one, aware of his height.

" Where ist die skeleton from last night?" Faust asked her, in a strange sort of calm that the little girl had never heard before. It did not contain any hints of some under toned superiority nor confidence that she had heard hidden beneath the voices of so many. There was no sign of the anger the man had felt for her before. It was just, empty. Like he had no reason to be there, except that he was there.

however, his eyes told a different story. One that let her know that he did not care for her. He did not hate her, he simply did not care. She was merely one of the people he would come across on his journey to get to what he really wanted. And Esther had her suspicions that what he wanted, had something to do with a woman named Eliza.

" I, I buried him last night." She said quietly, suddenly afraid of the man. People or demons who were brimming with ego and emotions she could handle, but one such as him, who seemed far more humble than any priest, but more dangerous and quick to anger that a devil, she feared.

" Ah." He merely said, not voicing the question she had expected. 'Why?'. The man seemed to like asking her questions, but now he was eerily silent. She had buried the bones only to annoy the man, but he seemed as if he did not care, it was only a miniscule matter to him in the larger, cosmic, scheme of things.

" Sir." She murmured, terrified to speak. Who knew what a man like him could do. "Could you, could you please leave?"

Faust looked at her. He did not appear hurt, or even relieved. He just, looked. Then he turned around and opened the door. As he stepped out onto the front porch the early morning sun shined into the house and caused Esther to squint. Then the door closed.

Esther stood there till she couldn't see Faust in the window. He had headed down to main street. Vaguely, she wondered where he was going. He said he was from Germany, so where could he possibly be headed with such sure steps.

The cemetery! Yes. He was a necromancer, after all. It only made sense.

" I'm glad he's gone." She whispered, then turned around and crawled back in bed. She would wait for Mephisto to come and play with her.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Die Tragödie von Johann Faust VIII**_

_Hello my beloved readers! How are you all feeling? _

_We'll formalities aside, I'd like to thank you all for reviewing me thus far, and for, hopefully, many future reviews. Of course, that does mean I'll have to keep writing, which I will. However, as we've all noticed, I sometimes end up having writers block. But for the moment, this annoying problem has been over come! Happiness. _

_Well, enjoy this chapter, and please, please review it for me. It actually makes writing these things worth it when you all do._

**Chapter 7:**

Faust stared at the countless tombstones. Markers for where the deceased lay. Things to be revered, respected, mourned. For Faust, indicators of weapons and tools.

He held no respect for the dead. They were, after all, only dead. He had always seen them as distasteful.

Being a doctor, he hate losing his patients to death. Being a widower, he hated losing his wife to it. And being a necromancer, he didn't mind losing anyone to it.

In all, Faust was the epitome of conflicting human emotion. Though he chose not to show it by pumping himself with narcotics. Drugs to numb the mind and body. He hated feeling. It brought too much pain. And besides, if it weren't for his drugs, most notably, his morphine, he would not be capable of surviving amongst the living.

You see, in his attempts to raise Eliza from her state of death, he had found it quite necessary to perform experiments. Some, he did on others. Those that required a living specimen over a succession of days, however, he did on himself. With ought the morphine, he would have long ago feel into a coma from the pain. And with ought anyone to care for him, with ought anyone to report his permanent loss of consciousness, he'd be sure to die. He was reliant upon the morphine. Extremely so.

" Alice Thompson. 1990-1999. Beloved daughter, Beloved friend." Faust read the marker with old, dying flowers. His voice held no remorse or sadness for the youth that had died, nor for that of her family. He didn't seem to care.

Normally, he would be cradling Eliza's skull as he wandered amongst the graves. But he'd left that with Mephistopheles in the church he'd desecrated. It was difficult to believe he could pat with his loves bones, but if he could be with her once more, he would do it.

" Guten Tag." He whispered to a man in his late thirties. He appeared to be visiting someone.

" Hello, have you lost someone?" The man bluntly asked, the sounds of mourning in his voice. Faust was taken aback by the question. Not because it wasn't expected, it was. But because it had been so long since he answered it.

" Yes, yes I have." Faust answered, eyes fading for a moment as he remembered finding his beloved for the last time. How it hurt.

" Me too. My wife. It was two months ago. I really miss her, but, life goes on, I guess…" He said as a small, sad smile emerged, "I'm just glad she could find relief."

" What happened to her?" Faust asked. It always surprised him how talkative people where when it concerned there dead loves. He always was. Then again, he had always welcomed the chance to talk about Eliza, even when she was alive. She'd always been his obsession. Always.

" She got sick.. Very sick.. What about you, who'd you lose?"

" I also lost my wife. She was shot. I tried to save her, but I failed."

" Don't blame yourself."

" I don't. I blame the bastard that killed her." Faust growled. How he hated the unknown man. If he ever found out who had done the cruel act towards his beloved, they would pay. Oh they would pay.

" You miss her."

" Very much." Faust answered.

" Where is she?" The man asked. Faust smiled, he didn't know. Mephisto had her, wherever the hell he was. And he meant that literally.

" Heaven, and Hell." He answered cryptically, " If your asking where she was buried, I'd say somewhere in Germany. But that doesn't matter, because she's not there anymore." Faust stated. To the man, it seemed as if Faust was referring to the fact that her soul had departed her body, but that was not what he meant at all. He had dug her up three days after her funeral and carried her down to the study, where he first attempted to return the sweet woman to the ranks of the living.

" I see.. Why do you—"

" Because, I find graveyards to be very soothing. I much prefer the company of the dead. They are silent, obedient, and so much less random and erratic than those who live." He answered the unfinished question. It was true, he did prefer the dead.

" Your wife was very beautiful."

" You knew her?" The man asked, surprised.

" No." Faust answered. Actually, he had just met her. She had been floating behind her husband for some time, she had seemed shocked when Faust had looked her in the eyes while he was talking to her widowed husband. She had never heard of shamans, after all. She'd spent all her time since death following her husband, attempting to comfort him, and failing.

" Then how would you know…?"

" I can reunite you with her, you can spend eternity together. All I'd have to do is kill you. It wouldn't be hard, or very painful. I can bring you both together." Faust said, looking up at the man through his blonde bangs. He looked, evil, satanic. He usually did.

Normally, he wouldn't have offered to do such a thing to anyone, but he was high on morphine at the moment, extremely high. He was feeling, ecstatic. Pain, emotion, senses, all did not exist for him. He was only waiting for Mephisto to bring his wife to him, why not bring this man to his wife in the process? It seemed completely justified to him.

" What?" The man asked, his voice incredulous. He wasn't sure if this man was joking, or serious.

" If I kill you, you'll be together."

" Your crazy."

" No. I am, insane. Yes, insane." Faust began laughing. " What do you think? Should I kill you? You will be happy again, you'll be with your wife. Someday, I'll be with mine, I'll be with my dear Eliza. Someday soon, Mephisto will bring her to me, and we shall be together again.

" But you, unless I help you along, she may be reincarnated, or, perhaps, she will go to a place in the afterlife that you may never be capable of reaching. If I don't help you now, you may lose her forever. What do you think? I think I'll kill you. Yes, I shall kill you."

" I'm leaving. Don't follow me or I'll call the police." The man said as he hurriedly attempted to leave.

" It ist amazing what people are willing to reveal once in a graveyard. Don't you agree? What was your name, child? Alice? Alice, rise, rise! Live once again and bring this man to his wife! Kill him so they may be together! I command you! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Faust cried out, a sadistic joy in his voice. The man though Faust truly insane, till he saw a skeletal hand burst forth out of a grave. The had was followed with an intire body.

To say the man was frightened was a lie, he was utterly terrified. He turned to run, but a group of skeletons were standing behind him.

" Get him meine skelete! Kill him!" Faust ordered, his glee spilling over and making itself evident in Faust's entire countance.

Now, as was said, he could not quite feel emotion at the present, however, he could allow himself to be completely taken over by any one feeling. Permit himself to be lost into it, glee was typically what he felt when under the influence of his morphine, as all others who induce the substance.

He watched with cheer as the man was torn to pieces by his skeletons. His death was painful, yes, but it must be done, if the two would ever be together again. He would have done something similar to himself long ago, had he not known that his beloved Eliza would disapprove of him committing suicide. The only way they could be together was through life, while this nameless man and his wife were to be reunited in death.

" Return to your graves, your deed ist done." Faust smirked. He was dead. Blood was splattered over the many tombstones and pieces of the mans flesh lay, hanging from the trees and grave markers. He had been completely decapitated. Perhaps the only way the police would be able to tell who he was would be to check his blood, and only if they had a sample on hand.

" Now see? Aren't you happy?" Faust asked with amused eyes as he stared at the bawling woman, the ghost of the mans wife. She was bent over her husbands skull, which had been practically smashed.

" You-your evil! You're a devil!" She yelled at him, tears in her eyes. She had wanted her husband to live on, they had a daughter, and a little boy. Who would raise them now?

" AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Devil? No, I'm human, I am a shaman. I can control the dead. You should be happy, I did not make you kill him, now did I? I could have summoned your corpse as well, but I didn't." Faust smirked. Then he began to leave. " Tschüs."

Faust then left the corpse and the ghost. He would soon exit his body, slightly unsure of what conspired, then he would remember. He would be afraid, enraged, then finally sorrowful. But he would see his wife, and all would be well once again. All would be well….

" What a cruel and heartless display." Mephisto smirked. He stood behind Faust, leaning on the gateway into the cemetery. His vivid red hair stood out amongst the pale, lifeless cemetery. Though the splatters of blood over the tombstones did give it a little color, the blood was not near a royal nor regal color. It was almost black.

" Ahh.. Mephisto. You are here. How pleasant." Faust smiled as he turned. His face appeared happy, content, and at peace with the world. His eyes were sorrowful and empty. What an odd copulation. " Where is Eliza?"

" Eliza? Oh, yes, your wife. I'm presently waiting for the delivery of her soul. It is not very easy to convince God to relinquish control of such a pristine spirit.

" But what about you, Faust? Why are you here? I believe I asked you to watch over the little girl."

" She wanted me to leave." Faust simply answered, still smiling. He looked more demonic than the demon.

" Did she?" Mephisto asked. He knew that she had asked him to leave. He'd gone to her first, after all. However, he did like to toy with people.

Faust had scared her. Quite a feat, actually. The girl had been in the presence of Satan, Lucifer, himself, and had not been afraid. She embraced her damnation, somewhat as Faust's ancestor had, but she did it with ought fear of what could happen to her. She reveled in simply being near someone. Pathetic soul. She could have gone to Heaven. Too bad, really.

" What do you want?" Faust asked, he seemed to be in a hurry… " I want Eliza back. What do you want me to do? What do I have to do to have my Eliza?"

Mephistopheles smirked.

" A lot, actually."


End file.
